


Locks

by useyourlove



Category: Slayers (anime)
Genre: F/M, Prompt Fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-08-18
Updated: 2011-08-18
Packaged: 2017-10-22 19:18:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,492
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/241602
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/useyourlove/pseuds/useyourlove
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lina and Gourry get a bit too tangled up in their hair on a balmy summer night. Written for Kinkfest V at slayersadult on LJ.</p><p>Prompt:<br/>June 3 - Lina/Gourry: rough-and-tumble sex, tangled hair - Sometimes she couldn't tell where she ended and he began. Even their hair seemed to meld.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Locks

**Author's Note:**

> Also posted at [wartytoads](http://wartytoads.livejournal.com/2714.html) on LiveJournal.

When they had flopped down to sleep, tucked away into their respective corners of the bed, they had both marveled at the hot, pulling their sullen masses of hair away from their necks. This heat wave was something special. Gourry had carefully wound his golden locks around his hand and arranged the ball above his head on the pillow.

"G'night, Lina," he mumbled.

"Harumph!" which was no reply at all, simply the noise she made when she tossed herself into the matress with a bit more force than was necessary. With a practiced flick of her wrist, her hair went flying out above her head and landed in a silken pile somewhere that was off of her neck which was all she cared about at that point. "Grr, ar, urm," which was the actual reply Gourry was waiting for.

Lina seemed to fall asleep instantly, despite the heat. He could tell from the familiar way her breathing evened out, filled with the mild grunts and growls he usually associated with her strange (and violent) dreams. He quirked a smile and closed his eyes. The dripping heat which he thought would keep him awake for hours lulled him to sleep faster than he thought possible. Which was all fine and dandy.

Until he started suffocating.

He sputtered awake, his mouth full of some sort of fuzz, his eyes covered with a wispy film. His first impression was that he had caught some disease on their recent travels. They had been to a few pretty odd places lately. But when he reached a hand up to wipe at his face, trying to restore his panic-stricken mind to working order, he found that the fuzz and film extended far beyond just his mouth and eyes. His entire face was covered in a silky web--wait... that was Lina's hair!

He pawed at the mass of hair covering his face to no effect.

"Lina!"

"Rrgh!" a hand landed against his stomach in a less than kind swat.

"Oof! Lina, wake up!"

"Wha'?"

"Get up, Lina! I'm all tangled up..."

She started up quickly, eyes snapped open, "Who--?! OW! Gourry!" Her head had quickly hit the leash limit on her tangled hair. "What the hell do you think you're doing?"

"What am _I_ doing? Lina, I woke up choking to death on your hair! I can't get out." His ineffectual pawing would have been endearing--if it weren't pulling with a piercing sharpness at every tug.

"Ow, _ow_! Gourry, quit it!"

He sat up as she leaned forward to help pick the knotted strands off his fingers and untangle his neck and face from her beautiful, red, luxurious, glistening--

"Ow! Lina!"

"What?"

"That was mine!"

"Oh..." so it was. "Oops. Sorry."

She picked at another knot or two. One of his hands came loose and, with a relieved sigh, he shook it through the air, attempting to restore blood to the digits that had been so hopelessly caught in the mess. There were marks on a few of his fingers where her hair had cut into the skin so tightly.

"Quit yanking!"

"I can't help it, it's stuck!"

"Ow, Lina! That's mine again!"

"Geez, sorry."

"Wait, here let me."

"No, I've--"

"Lina!"

"Let go!"

"Hang on!"

"Ah--"

"AH!"

Which was when the knots won and they found themselves so inextricably wound together that Gourry overbalanced and they crashed backward on to his pillow.

The muggy air seemed to grow a few degrees hotter in the span of a few seconds--and Lina didn't think that the air could _get_ hotter. Gourry blushed, his eyes level with her chest rising and falling mere millimeters from his nose. She had managed to save herself from toppling full against him with a hastily jammed elbow against the headboard. It throbbed. Neither of them moved until Gourry lifted his chin, his lips parted with a soft noise, so terribly audible in the sudden silence, and Lina blushed before rolling off him. She tried to sit up, pulling both of their hair enough to make them cringe. She rolled back his way.

"Let me get my hairbrush," she finally said.

"Your hairbrush?"

"Yes, jellyfish. My hairbrush. The thing you use to get knots out? It's over on the dresser."

"How are you going to get there? We're all tangled up."

She shot him a look that he read perfectly and he replied with an equally silent "oh" and, fist to palm, a small nod. They both sat up at the same time, which was a lot harder than it sounded. They then stood at the same time, with a shriek.

"Gourry, damn it, you're too tall!"

"Huh?"

He looked down and saw Lina on her toes, their hair still yanking painfully, some ominous little snapping and ripping noises coming from the vicinity of the rat's nest they had managed to make of their tresses. He reached down and scooped her up easily. To his surprise she didn't flail.

"What are you doing?"

"Well, we need the brush, and I'm not going to pull your hair out to get it. Or mine."

He ducked across the room and she reached out and grabbed the brush from the dresser quickly before he took the few steps back to the bed and sat down. The squeak of the bedframe's ropes under his weight made Lina blush more furiously than she already had.

He made no move to plant her anywhere but in his lap. The heat of his thighs against hers was making her heart pound. She pulled all of their hair around between them. Her hand shook as she swatted the brush at the bottom of their collective rat's nest with quick practiced strokes. The red and the blonde pulled straight with some work, but they didn't separate--they fell into one light golden sheet. She worked her way up through the knots until she had a mass of sleek, shining, perfectly detangled hair sitting in her lap. She continued to stroke it. Brush, then hand, the weight of it, the gloss of it, the softness, and the sweet smell that was entirely her shampoo (since he was too lazy to bring along his own) made her head swim. She leaned forward and brushed her nose into it.

This heat was doing things to her. Maybe she was just sleepy. That was it. Sleep deprivation made people do stupid things on the same order as drunkenness.

It was when she made to climb off of his lap that she realized she couldn't get up. One of Gourry's arms was firmly planted across her knees, his hand possessively wrapped around her thigh. The other arm was snaked around her waist. He too had his eyes closed, his cheek rubbing against the softness of their combined hair. Her movement had startled him into a clench, and he didn't relax from it--he simply pulled her closer.

"Gourry--" she began, but when his eyes slid open and hit her full on with that intense stare--with more heat than all the sticky summer air--she wished she hadn't spoken and had simply sat and waited for him to fall asleep so she could get away.

"G-g-gourry!" A fingertip brushed gently against her cheek and sent a shiver straight through her. She felt her skin heating in places that were already far too hot and exposed. She closed her eyes and shivered at his touch. When she felt his thumb wrap under her jaw, felt him pull her face up to his, felt him steady his hand so much that it shook with the effort, she thought perhaps she should open her eyes again.

It was as if two blue fires had been lit where he should have eyes. His face was set and serious, searching hers. She wondered what he saw there. And that was when he began to lean forward. She felt her face flush, but his hand was persistent, pulling her face toward his. She trembled and let out a small cry. He paused.

"Are you all right, Lina?"

"Y-yeah." Her voice shook far more than it should have. She wasn't ready for this! This was... this was... this was just... well... um... wait... what was the problem here? "Yeah, I'm fine," she said a bit more confidently.

He did another one of those long searching gazes and she felt naked, even clothed as she was. "Come on," he said, swinging his legs onto the bed, with her splayed across him. "Let's get some sleep. We've got a hard day tomorrow."

"Y-yeah," she agreed, still dumbfounded. Had what she thought almost happened really almost happened? What the hell? _What was going on here_? She scrambled off of him, back to her side of the bed, and flumped around the pillows like a puppy walking circles. He turned from her, closing his eyes, willing himself back to sleep. He blew a long breath out between his lips, trying to regain his composure. It wasn't right to do that sort of thing to Lina. He knew better than to try stuff like that. Lina was Lina and he'd rather keep all of his body parts together.

For her part, Lina had stopped flumping around completely. Her hair, so freshly brushed, was hanging down her back in a fluffy sheet and threatening to stick to every bit of sweating exposed skin that it could reach. That was certainly one thing she hated about her hair--it did seem to cling desperately to sweating flesh. It was practically unbearable to leave it down in the heat. It had to at least be off of her neck. But she wasn't paying the slightest bit of attention to it now even as it stuck all up and down her back. She was stock still, her eyes seeing little of what was before them, her mind working frantically over what had just--what had just hap--no, what had just _not_ happened. What the hell was this? Why did she feel this way? What was that strange.... Ah. Ah, yes. So this was it, eh? This was what it felt like. This was the... the pain and the... disappointment. This was rejection. And the damnedest part of it was you had to _want_ whatever it was to feel rejected. And that was the bit that scared her the most.

She felt a shiver go up her spine that certainly had nothing to do with cold. She drew in a long breath, letting it out in a "hmph," before she twisted her hair around her wrist to get it out of the way so she could flump back down on the pillows. That was when she realized she still had the hairbrush. And that was when her brain got one of those devious Lina-ideas.

Gourry had nearly willed himself to sleep when he felt the soft tug on his hair. It tickled it was so gentle.

"Sorry," he said, trying to pull his hair out of her way, imagining that she had flopped on it by accident. He felt a wrap on his knuckles that was just a bit unkind. "Ow! What--" but then he felt the prickly bristles of the brush caress his scalp and he thought he might melt. Or explode. Or both. Which would be messy. Oh, _Shabra_ thingy.

She ran the brush slowly from the top of his head all the way down the length of his hair, scraping the soft bristles against the contours of his neck, his shoulders, his back, his ass, his thighs. And then there was no more hair. He cursed every time he had ever cut it. Until he felt the brush against his scalp once more and she began the long languorous stroke yet again.

"Lina..."

"Hm?"

He had said that out loud?

"What--?"

She started another stroke.

"Oh..." that was far too much like a moan. Lina should not make him moan. Moaning was out. No more moaning. Oh, sweet mistress of sorcery, was that her hand? She was following the brush with her hand now, smoothing out the shining strands as the bristles moved through them. Head, neck, shoulders, back, ass, thigh... her hand lingered there.

"Oh..." that moaning again. No, this was no good. He made to move, but the hand on his thigh stilled him. He was tense, he knew, but he couldn't help it. He was far too close to the line he promised himself that he would never cross--far too close to the cliff, you might say. This was _Lina_! Lina, the terror of the universe! She couldn't know what she was doing to him. _Oh_ , sword and sorcery! She couldn't be _so_ very innocent as to _not_ know what she was doing to him.

She leaned across his body and let the brush clatter to the bedside table, a breast grazing against his cheek, his ear. This was too much. All far too much--

"Lina, maybe I should sleep on the floor."

She pulled back from him, stung. "Why?"

"Well... this bed is kind of small. Doesn't seem like there's enough room for both of us."

"Oh...." Was that disappointment in her voice? Oh? Indeed.... "But... I don't mind," she said.

"You don't mind?"

"No, I... I don't want you to have to sleep on the floor. I will, if you want me to."

She started to climb over him, but he turned, quickly, grabbing hold of the leg she had cast over top of him, and she stopped, straddling him. She blushed a furious red that he could see even by the blue half-light of the moon, but it didn't have that same frightened look to it. There was no trepidation this time. He felt himself growing warm. He felt himself growing in other places too.

"Lina..." his thumb ran along her knee and she could feel it hot and heavy even through the fabric of her pajamas. She scooted forward along his thighs, ever so slightly, and his eyes set alight again, the way they had a moment ago. Yes, she was not crazy. She had thought she'd seen that look there. That starved, hungry, predator look. Good. Very good. This was better than she had imagined. No, damn it, no she hadn't imagined this! Had she? Had she really? Ok, maybe, yes. And this was better than she had imagined.

She leaned forward suddenly and stopped, her face hovering over his, not sure what to do now. She had gotten herself here, now what? Now what? She shifted around uncertain and he closed his eyes, his cheeks flushed, moaning gently. She scooted forward until she felt the weight of him, the size of him, pressing against her. She was starting to shake and losing her ground. Oh, Ceipheid--what was she getting herself in to? This was already much further along than she'd ever gotten when she was planning this stuff out--and damn it, she _had_ planned it.

"Lina!" the way he said her name--as if speaking it caressed his own soul--that was what made her lean in further, her eyes level with his lips, her hips set against his. She scooted higher against him and let her lips ever so gently press against his. It was dry, and it was chaste, but it sent a little shock through her body. She did not close her eyes. What a strange feeling to be pressing lips to someone else's like this. How strange...

When she pulled back to study his face his eyes shot open and hooked her gaze as effectively as a line hooked a fish. She was transfixed. His hands traveled up to her shoulders, back down a bit, and locked there around her arms. She was shivering, but it was still far too warm. She felt herself trembling, her teeth were chattering. He pulled her to him once more, his lips capturing hers. He devoured her as if she was the most delectable meal that he'd ever been offered. A charge shot down her spine, through her belly, and she buried her fingers in the hair at the base of his skull, pulling him to her. There was never anything like this. She felt his tongue begging for entrance and she parted her lips to allow it. He dipped into her and out as if stealing a taste before he dove in again, exploring her, suckling at her as if he had never tasted anything so fantastic in all his life. She could feel him rising off the bed, leaning against the headboard for leverage, pulling her close to him. His hands left her arms to wrap around her waist, her neck, to pull her closer still. She felt as if she might explode in a million directions all at once. She couldn't think of a better way to die.

She was learning, suckling back tentatively, mewling a little, whimpering. There was a moan from someone. Then she returned his ministrations in earnest. His hand made it into her hair. With an annoyed flick, he managed to capture all of his own hair and pull out from under him to cascade in front of his shoulder, out of the way. The way she dug her hands into it with such greed and possessiveness you'd think it was all pure gold. She broke the kiss, trailing her lips along his jaw, down his neck, along his collarbone before she slowly began to undo the buttons of his pajama shirt and trail kisses in the wake of her hands.

He groaned and writhed beneath her. This little nymph above him... he had to stop his senses for a minute to let his brain process what exactly was happening. This was Lina! Lina, trailing kisses of fire down his belly towards--oh, sweet....

She reached his pants, tugging at them impatiently, her face so red that he could almost believe she really had been trailing fire down his body. His hands went to hers and she looked up at him uncertainly. He could see the confusion and the question in her eyes. He could see how very near she was to pain. Any wrong move now would probably keep her from sex for another fifty years. And that was something he definitely did not want to happen. His poor innocent. He pulled her back up next to him and nestled her head against his shoulder--against the shoulder covered in all of his hair. He held her close--no rejection there--just a moment of pause. Just a moment to process what was going on. Lina shrank against him like a second skin and he worried that even this might be enough to push her away from him. Her fingers played in his hair. He realized, belatedly, that she was working tiny braids into the strands. Then he realized that the braids had her hair in them too. That was probably what made him lose restraint. He pulled her over him, straddling his hips once more, and kissed her soundly, their braided hair trailing between them both, pulling and falling back, letting them move only to the limits of their connection. He was more than a little pleased she had started the braids so high up.

"Lina," he said, before pulling her into a brief kiss. Quickly he moved on, trailing along her jaw, pressing kisses in the soft sensitive spot below her ear, nipping at her earlobe. She cried out at the nip and he used his teeth from then on, scraping a path across her shoulders that he soothed away with his soft lips, noting the goose bumps that rose in his wake. His hands were at the hem of her shirt, tugging so insistently yet so indecisively that she finally just pulled back with a grunt and unbuttoned it, slipping it off her shoulders quickly so as not to get caught up in their hair and start another frantic scramble to get them free. She was divested of clothing quickly and efficiently, and even her chest was blushing a becoming pink at this sudden bareness. It seemed embarrassed to be so naked before his raw eyes. They devoured the site of her body nearly as eagerly as his mouth had feasted upon her. She tried to cross her arms in front of herself, feeling horribly self-conscious about her breasts, but he grabbed her elbows and pulled her arms out wide. His hands were warm against her skin, suddenly cold even in the heat.

"Gourry--"

"Sh. Oh, hush," he said, a finger going to her lips. "I'd... I could die right now, Lina. I could really die." His eyes made adding anything else irrelevant. He thought she was beautiful and didn't want to embarrass her by saying it, which embarrassed her even more. Then he leaned forward and closed his lips over a nipple and she didn't care anymore about being embarrassed or awkward, or anything _at all_ except his mouth on her, sucking. She didn't care about anything except the way his tongue rolled across her nipple and his teeth teased her flesh.

"Oh, Gourry!" she called. His hand trailed down her belly and didn't stop at the waistband of her pants the way hers had. He dove straight under her clothing, his fingers wading through the soft curls he met there and pausing ultimately over her heated center. Her breathing was ragged and she too paused, waiting to see what would happen. Finally too impatient to wait, she wriggled against his hand. "Touch me," she said.

He ran a calloused finger over her slick sex, finding her nub, dipping one finger into her so that she bucked and moaned. He gave one last hard suck on her breast and she protested when he pulled away from her entirely. He made to lay her on her back but she was stiff and resistant, uncertain what would happen. "Sh, Lina. It'll be all right." She relaxed slightly. He divested her of her pants and her underwear in a few jerky desperate movements before she found herself naked in the night with her legs spread and Gourry's face between them. She wondered briefly if this was another one of her dreams. He hooked her knees over his shoulders and studied her sex so intently that she writhed, nervous once more. He broke out of his reverie, smiling up at her with a face full of deviance and mischief. He didn't speak, he simply leaned forward and locked his lips around her, suckling at her nub, his tongue flitting in and out of her hot core, tasting her, his own moans reverberating in ways that made her squeal his name. Every pull yanked at the bits of their hair braided together, but that only served to underscore the pleasure.

"Gourry!"

He slid one of his fingers into her depths and worked a steady rhythm, pushing deeply in time with every hard suck at her clit. His own sex throbbed in time with his fingers. The smell of her was enough to get him hard--the taste of her was torture.

"Oh, Gourry!"

Another finger joined its friend inside of her and her heels dug into his back trying to leverage herself harder against his mouth. She bucked and it yanked at their hair so hard that she hissed. A gentle chuckle vibrated through him and she writhed. In and out, attack and retreat, slowly... slowly.

"Gourry, please! Please!" she didn't even know what she was begging for. She just wanted more, _more!_

He flicked his tongue against her and she shattered. She cried out far louder than she intended and every bone in her body was melting, never to return. She kept her eyes closed from the sheer ecstasy of it until she felt him shift. When she opened her eyes he was there, looming above her, their hair now fraying out of the braids in every direction. They had almost unbraided themselves entirely. She made a move as if to run her fingers through the remaining twists before he caught her hands and swooped down to steal a kiss. She could taste herself in his mouth and it made her want even more. She wanted... she wanted... _him_.

"Gourry, please..."

"Please what?"

"Please... I want you... inside of me."

A pinkness tinged his own cheeks at her words, but his eyes, filled with that same blaze as before, softened and he leaned in to kiss her again. He let his lips trail around her jaw, nuzzling with his nose at that spot that made her mewl. She didn't disappoint. He shifted, positioned his ready member at her entrance and pulled back again to look her in the eye.

"This is your first time." It wasn't a question. She nodded anyway. He took a breath, let out a sigh. "It's going to hurt." She nodded. "I don't want to hurt you, Lina."

The smile that lit her face was enough to undo him. He'd never seen Lina so touched before. _It was me. I put that look on her face_. That sweetness there was better even than her face in full ecstasy.

"I know. It's all right. Please Gourry. I don't want it to be anyone but you."

He kissed her on the forehead and smoothed the hair out of her face before, slowly, he pushed in. Her eyes locked on his. When he met a slight resistance, he stopped. She nodded yet again. He pressed forward and her face contorted in a cringe. She didn't cry out, but she squirmed beneath him, far from comfortable. He slid himself into her to the hilt and could feel her tightness, even as he felt himself stretching her small body to its limit. He waited, and the wait was agony buried in her warmth, until she squirmed beneath him in a more encouraging way and cooed "Move, jellyfish brains."

He slid out and, carefully, pushed back in. Her lip twitched once more in that grimace. "More," she said. He obliged.

He moved slowly, trying to hurt her as little as possible, trying desperately to keep himself in check, until she began to relax. She began to rock her hips against him, brushing the base of him against her clit with force on every thrust. When she finally found the perfect spot she cried out with a squeal that made him stop, thinking he'd hurt her. "Don't stop, don't stop! I'll fireball you into the next town!" He picked up the pace.

His hair fell around them in a sweaty sheet and she felt surrounded by him, rocking together in a height of pleasure that she had not imagined could exist. She had pleasured herself, but it was nothing compared to the way Gourry rocked his hard length into her greedy center. She pulled at him with every thrust and the pull of her muscles around him had him groaning, thrusting harder in return. He ground against her and she ground right back. He growled at the hungry feel of her. Oh yes. He could die right here and not complain.

She growled back, tangling an arm in his hair reaching for his neck. She didn't care. She wrapped her other arm in his hair from elbow to wrist like a golden sleeve. Gods, yes. Yes! He pounded into her. She felt her head hitting the headboard with each slippery thrust. And they had started off far from the headboard. They would probably have rug burns when they finished. She didn't care in the least. She lost herself in him. There was no point where Gourry began and Lina ended--they were simply here, now, the same. She realized, belatedly, that half of the hair her hands were twirled in was her own. She only realized it after she tried to give it an encouraging yank and they both cried out at the rough sting to their scalps.

"Harder, Gourry!"

"Oh, gods, Lina!" he drove into her with a manic energy and she responded in kind, slamming against his every thrust. This was much more than he'd ever anticipated. Much, much more. Funny to think of his previous encounters as mundane, considering what they had been, but they had never rocked him to the very center of his being like this. He wondered, mildly, if you could even call his previous experience sex. He had never so completely fallen into another person. He'd never before lost control of the boundaries where she ended and where he began. Even their hair was inseparable. And still he wanted more.

He leaned in to kiss her and she met him halfway, sucking hard at his bottom lip, thrusting her tongue into his mouth with such fervor that he was pushed to the edge. He felt as if she was sucking at his very soul and the rawness of it was too much for him. He made a move to bring his hand down to her clit, wanting them to come at the same time, but he found his hand was tangled hopelessly in her flaming tresses. He grunted in frustration, slamming into her, pulling back from their kiss and yanking his hands free until he had snaked both of them down to her ass.

"Gourry--?" He gave a squeeze, picking her up and pulling her to him as he sat up, leaning them both against the headboard and hitting a new angle deep inside of her, brushing against her clit with all of his weight and, with a ragged cry from her, sending her cascading over the edge. Her muscles, spasming in pleasure around him, clamped down, milking him of his orgasm as he shot into her with a shout. She felt his hot wetness even amongst her own and she burrowed her nose into his shoulder. "Gourry, Gourry, Gourry," she whispered. He panted, trying not to crush her at some awkward angle, his eyes still closed.

He felt a shove at his chest and let himself fall backward on the bed with her atop him. She moved so that he slid out of her and, both spent entirely, she nestled in beside him. Neither of them spoke.

When they'd finally regained themselves, they simply lay in the silence, his hand trailing in the small of her back, occasionally dipping over her buttocks, her hand twirling in their hair. She studied the different shades in the half-light and admired the identical sheen from the gleaming moon.

"Are you all right?" Gourry finally broke the silence.

A soft shy voice answered, "Yeah. Are you?"

"I'll survive." He felt the smile of her cheek against his chest.

She took a deep breath and let out a heavy sigh. "Let's go to sleep."

"All right," he said, not realizing she would disentangle herself from him and start fluffing at the pillows again. He too, sat up, watching her in the moonlight, naked and covered in a sheen of sweat. He ached to have her near again. Her hair trailed across her ass as if teasing him. He closed his eyes and rubbed his neck trying to regain composure.

"Harumph!" she flopped down, her hair flying out before her and landing comfortably away from her as she hit the mattress with a thump. He wrapped his own tresses around his hand and placed it carefully above his head on the pillow. He faced her now. She faced the wall. Her breathing was that even rhythm that suggested sleep. He wanted to shake her, to tell her something--anything! He just wanted her to know... but he didn't want to wake her. It was his turn to feel awkward. He reached out a hand and let it rest against her naked hip, his thumb trailing down the curve of her waist.

"Gourry," she said, and he pulled back as if burned.

"Hm?"

"You love me."

His hand balled up into a fist like a turtle retreating to its defenses.

"Yes."

She shifted in such a way that she managed to nestle in against him without touching, somehow snuggling without exchanging body heat in the muggy summer evening. Tentatively he placed his hand back on her hip.

She shifted again and he was about to pull his hand back when a large quantity of red hair landed in his face and he had the strongest sense of _deja vu_. He smiled into the sweet smelling strands that caressed his face like silk. He moved his hand, only to gather the masses together and wrap them gingerly and securely around his neck before he settled his palm against her curves again.

She patted him on the knee before curling back up and letting herself truly fall asleep.

He smiled, settling down and allowing his eyes to drift closed, pondering the new meaning of getting whipped in the face with a mass of hair.


End file.
